


Too Much of a Good Thing

by Elthadriel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Name-Calling, Rough Sex, Safewords, Self-Hatred, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthadriel/pseuds/Elthadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian uses his safeword during an intense scene with Bull but Bull is there to help him through the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much of a Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

> My half of a art/fic trade with Kidvoodoo.
> 
> I enjoy sad Dorian way too much.

It was all too much.

Dorian pulled on the ropes with a whine. His arms were tied together with a single length of rope that had been looped around his neck, forcing his hands up behind his head, leaving him even more exposed as he was forced to arch his chest up slightly so his shoulders didn’t complain too much. If he struggled, or even responded too strongly to Bull’s teasing the rope tightened around his neck cutting off his breathing.

His calves were bound to his thighs giving him very little movement and making it so easy for Bull to spread his legs and fuck his hole. The rope was unforgiving and left ugly burns that ached for days. Bull would press gentle kisses onto the marks as they healed and make Dorian sit on his bed, their bed, while he rubbed ointment over the angry wounds. Dorian soaked up the attention and easy praise that Bull showered him in as he tended to him. 

That future seemed far away and Dorian didn’t want to, couldn’t, wait for it. He wanted the ropes off now; he wanted all of this to end.

Why wasn’t Bull stopping? Why had Bull agreed to do something so clearly wrong to him? Dorian was wrong for wanting it, and it was too much.

Bull had sucked marks onto his skin and it had felt so wonderful and Dorian was so proud that someone wanted him enough to mark him like that. Now all he could think was that some of the marks were high enough on his neck that he couldn’t hope to hide them and everyone would see and know how he liked to be fucked. He wasn’t sure he could take more rumours being spread about him or anymore judgemental looks being thrown his way when people thought he wasn’t looking. The rumours about what he got up to in bed, the ones already in circulation that had started as soon as he and Bull had become public knowledge, hit too close to things his peers had said about him in Tevinter.

Bull reached up to tug on the chain linked between Dorian’s nipples and pulled firmly. Dorian hissed and tried to arch further off the bed, letting out a pathetic noise of pain. He wiggled helplessly a moment, unable to provide himself any relief, before Bull released him and returned his hand to Dorian’s thigh to hold him steady as Bull thrust roughly into him

He hurt everywhere. The ropes rubbed too much against his skin, the position was too strenuous, his buttocks and thighs were red from the slaps Bull and given him earlier and even Bull’s cock in his arse burned from the minimal preparation. Every part of him hurt and the normally delicate balance of pain and pleasure was only causing him distress. Why wasn’t Bull stopping?

“Bull.” Maker his voice sounded broken.

He was so hard he ached but Bull wouldn’t let him come, had denied him so many times already, bringing him so close only to grip tight around the base of his cock to deny him and watch him curse and writhe in frustration. As soon as Dorian had moved away from the edge Bull set about bringing there all over again. It was too much.

“I would have thought an obviously used slut like yourself would know not to speak without permission,” Bull growled, sounding so unlike the version of Bull that Dorian had come to know and far more like the version of Qunari Dorian had held in his head for so long before actually meeting one.

“Bull, stop, please,” he wailed. Bull wouldn’t stop of course; begging and fighting were part of the game, a part, just like the degrading names, he had asked for. 

Bull’s hand tightened warningly on his thigh, digging his blunt, but still hard nails into Dorian’s skin, another point of pleasure and pain and Dorian broke.

“Katoh.” It ripped from his mouth and for a second it felt like it might burn his tongue but now he had said it once he found it came so easily. “Katoh, katoh, please Bull, katoh.”

Dorian had used his watchword before, he knew Bull would stop but he was still surprised when Bull jerked his hands from his skin like it burned. Dorian twisted against in his bindings. He needed away, he needed to not be being touched, he needed to be able to move, and he needed the pain and pleasure that were mixing together so he couldn’t tell which was which to stop.

Bull pulled out of Dorian without even hesitating but somehow the sudden change was even worse and Dorian cried out his watchword again. He clenched his ass around the emptiness sobbing at the wrongness of the feeling but also pathetically grateful that Bull was no longer inside him. He shouldn’t have asked for this in the first place. He wouldn’t be feeling these awful conflicting feelings if he hadn’t wanted Bull to do this to him. This was his fault.

Bull hands were at the knots, tugging them lose and Dorian thrashed against them, thrashed against Bul. He landed a kick as one of his legs was released and Bull grunted in surprise. Dorian needed Bull to stop touching him. He wailed as Bull leant over him, to pull the ties at his wrists free. Bull was still between his legs, had to be to avoid being kicked again, and Dorian could feel Bull’s, admittedly flagging, erection still pressed against his arse.

Dorian scrambled out of Bull’s grasp the moment he was free of the ropes, panting like he had just woken from a nightmare rather than from energetic sex. Bull made no attempt to move after Dorian but his concern was clearly etched across his face. As the immediate panic faded, but didn’t leave him entirely, Dorian was himself enough to feel terribly guilty for being the cause of Bull’s worry.

Dorian felt cold, even as sweat clung to his skin, but the sheets felt too overwhelming against his oversensitive skin to wrap around himself so he kicked them away, wrapping his arms around himself as the hair rose on his arms. 

Bull moved as far away as he could while remaining on the bed but he was so careful to give Dorian space, making sure he didn’t loom. 

Dorian had pulled away because he thought he needed the space, needed to be removed from the overpowering sensation of being touched but he had unconsciously expected Bull to follow him, to hold him and demand answers. He still needed for Bull to be holding him right now, despite how much he had struggled only moments ago, but Bull never made him do anything he didn’t ask for; fuck, he had asked for this.

“Bull,” he whimpered, reaching out for Bull like a child, hoping Bull understood because he didn’t think he could express himself in anymore words. Bull moved forward slowly and reached for Dorian, his hands hovering over Dorian’s skin trying to meet Dorian’s eye to get conformation. Dorian nodded quickly and Bull very gently pulled Dorian into his lap.

Dorian almost kicked free again but he forced himself to breath deeply and he settled against Bull’s chest acutely aware of the ache even the smallest movement caused. He was trembling and very little of it to do with the cold.

“What’s wrong with me?” He whispered.

“Nothing, Dorian,” Bull said, voice back to normal. “There’s nothing wrong with you.

Bull’s skin contact was still too much but being touched was better than being left alone.

“What can I do?” Bull asked, starting to rub up and down Dorian’s arms but stopped when Dorian tensed under the touch. Why was Dorian was reacting like this? He liked these scenes, he had enjoyed them before and never reacted like this.

“I’m cold,” Dorian said, deciding to focus on things that Bull might actually be able to fix. 

“Stay here a moment.” Bull placed Dorian on the bed besides him smiling reassuringly at Dorian’s panicked expression.

“Bull.” Dorian’s hands opened and closed helplessly and he half reached for Bull but seemed unwilling to actually touch him. If he was Bull he wouldn’t want to someone like Dorian touch him.

“Close your eyes,” Bull ordered, but gently, nothing like the commands from the game. “Count slowly upwards and I’ll be back by the time you reach five. Can you do that?” 

Dorian nodded. He wasn’t crying, thank the Maker for small mercies, but he was sure that even the slightest misstep would set him off.

Dorian did as he was instructed, closing his eyes tight and wrapping his arms around his knees.

“One, two.” Bull left the bed and crossed the room. Dorian could hear him rummaging through a drawer off to his right. “Three.” Bull gave a pleased little grunt as he found what he had been searching for. “Four.” Bull’s hand fell back on Dorian’s shoulder and he climbed back onto the bed next to him. Dorian made a relieved noise before he could bite it back.

He opened his eyes as Bull offered him what he had gone to collect. It was the white shirt that he had worn to the Winter Palace, probably one of the only shirts Bull owned, and made of a fine, easily creased material far too good to be worn in bed.

Bull helped Dorian into it and rolled the too long sleeves up over themselves several times until Dorian hands were free. Dorian sat still and allowed himself to be treated like a child, unable to dress itself. He wanted to object but he wasn’t entirely sure how to move his mouth and he wasn’t actually certain he could do it himself in his current state.

He wasn’t sure why it felt different to the sheets, it was possible that it was because Bull had given it to him, or because it had no relation to the sex they had just attempted, but it felt soft against his skin instead of irritating. And, while it couldn’t remove the painful aftermath of Dorian’s perverted desires it did at least hid much of the physical evidence from view.

Bull settled back against the headboard and guided Dorian back in front of him so Dorian’s back was against Bull’s chest. Dorian breathed a sigh of relief as he settled there.

“I need…” Dorian motioned wrapping his arms around himself and Bull understood instantly bringing his own arms up to circle Dorian. He was painfully gentle however, not holding tightly enough to make Dorian feel trapped and still kept his legs spread wide give Dorian room. Dorian gripped Bull’s forearms with both of his hands. He was still shaking.

“You want to talk about it?” Bull asked, gently, pressing a quick kiss into the mess of Dorian’s hair.

Dorian shook his head, holding Bull tighter as if afraid his refusal would cause Bull to leave. He couldn’t talk now, words that normally came to him so easily were abandoning him. He wanted to say ‘katoh’ again; maybe Bull could fix his head if he said it enough.

“All right.”

No questions asked, Dorian reminded himself. That had been what Bull had promised him. He was always assuming the worst in Bull, Bull deserved better, deserved someone who didn’t want things as fucked up as Dorian did, someone who-

“Did I ever tell you about the time the Chargers and I had to pretend to be a circus troop?” Bull asked, breaking Dorian off from his train of thought.

Dorian shook his head again. He didn’t want to hear about Bull and the chargers but it was so much better than the silence and Bull probably knew that.

“It was Krem’s idea, said he got it from my trousers which I’m sure you’d approve of. A young Orlaisian noble was marrying a serving girl he’d fallen for but he was certain his family were going to try and stop the wedding at any costs. He paid us a generously to make sure that didn’t happen while not ruining the wedding…”

Bull had told him three stories and was half way through a fourth when Dorian finally stopped him by releasing the death grip on his forearm and touching Bull’s knee lightly. The stories were silly, and probably greatly exaggerated but they forced Dorian to remain out of his own head. 

“Hey.” Bull’s voice dropped down from conversational back to the gentle voice he saved for Dorian and small animals. “You back with me?”

“Yes, mostly.” Dorian said. He still felt fragile and skittish but the mere thought of talking no longer seemed like an impossible task.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Overwhelmed,” Dorian said, going for honesty. “I don’t know what happened. It was all too much and I couldn’t cope. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this to me, I shouldn’t want you to do this to me; especially when I clearly can’t handle it.”

“Easy, Dorian,” Bull said, and Dorian wished being treated like a small child wasn’t so effective.

Bull’s bare leg rubbed against Dorian’s.

Bull’s skin felt like fire were it touched his bare skin and he jerked slightly. His own hands on Bull were fine but the unexpected contact was still too much and Bull pulled back too, understanding almost immediately. He frowned but quickly came up with a solution. 

Bull shifted them and stood up, keeping a hand on Dorian’s shoulder, through the shirt, while he stood and found his trousers, struggling into them with only one hand. He settled them back as they had been and Dorian wanted to thank him for being so perceptive and understanding but couldn’t quite get his mouth around the words. He continued with answering Bull’s question instead.

“I don’t know why I like you degrading me or ordering me around. People have tried to force me to do things my whole life and I’ve been called far worse things than what you call me by my peers. I told myself I hated it but what if I acted out because I enjoyed the mistreatment? Maybe I deserved it.” Dorian dropped his chin to his chest and spoke softly as if hoping Bull wouldn’t hear.

Bull made a strange strangled noise in the back of his throat which sounded a little like he had almost growled but thought better of it at the last minute.

Dorian flinched slightly anyway, even as the rational part of him knew Bull was almost certainly angry at that people had made Dorian think that than at Dorian himself.

“This is on your terms, Dorian. You can want things in play that you would never want to experience in reality. There is nothing you could have done to deserve how Tevinter treated you. There’s no shame in this, any of this. If you like me hurting you and calling you nasty things that’s fine but so is needing me to hold you after and tell you that you that your a good boy.”

Dorian winced at the endearment though he couldn’t entirely explain why, normally those sort words caused warmth to curl in his belly and he all but preened under the attention.

“I don’t feel like I’ve been good.”

“How do you feel?”

“Broken, wrong.”

“This is my fault,” Bull said it so firmly for a second Dorian believed him. “I should have noticed you weren’t in the right headspace to do such a demanding scene.”

“I should have told you before we started,” Dorian said. “I was hoping playing would help me forget but I should have told you so you could have adjusted the scene.”

“We both could have done better,” Bull agreed. “Will you tell me know what’s been bothering you?”

Dorian tried to organise his thoughts into coherent sentences but when he started talking it all came out in a rush.

“I can’t handle everyone hating me anymore. I know it’s not everyone but it’s enough,” He corrected before Bull could interrupt him, now he’d started he didn’t want to stop. “I hear the rumours they spread about me and notice the looks everyone throws my way, like they know I’m practising blood magic and am going to sacrifice their children but they just can’t prove it yet. I’m trying to be the good Tevinter, a good man, but it’s hard to live up to that standard all the time and I know I’m failing. The things I let you do to me, that I ask you to do to me. Maker. How can I be a good man or change what people think of Tevinter, if I even want my sex life to be violent?” He buried his face in his hands, shuddering. “I’m tired of it all, Bull.”

“Dorian.” Bull sounded heartbroken and Dorian was torn between being guilty for burdening Bull with his problems and the reassurance of having someone care so deeply about him. “Do you want to stop doing these kinds of things?”

“No,” Dorian said hurriedly. “I just wish I did.”

“Do you think I’m a bad person for engaging in rough sex with you?” Bull asked.

Dorian sighed and he knew he sounded more exasperated than anything else. He didn’t know how to explain that while he understood the logic of Bull’s point it just felt different when it was about him without sounding foolish.

“If this isn’t something to be ashamed of then why do I feel like this?” He asked instead, avoiding the question. Bull’s sigh made it clear he hadn’t gotten away with it.

“We’ve talked about this before; drops happen. This can be an unfortunate side effect of what we do but it doesn’t mean anything more than coming down form a high too quickly. You are all allowed to want a safe place where you don’t need to worry about those expectations; I hope I provide that for you.”

Bull paused, clearly mulling something over.

“I’ve experienced this too,” Bull said at last and Dorian craned his neck, looking at Bull properly for the first time. “I felt like I was going savage and the rules I insist upon where just ways of justifying it. After all, I was hurting people and enjoying it isn’t that what the Tal-Vashoth I fought on Seheron were doing?

“I was wrong, consent made it different, just like it makes it different for you.” Bull sounded almost venomous. 

“You should have told me sooner,” Dorian said softly, trying to process this new information. Somehow knowing Bull had struggled with similar issues made them seem a lot less petty. “I’d have helped.”

“I haven’t had to deal with them in a while. If I ever do again I’ll make sure you know.”

“Thank you,” Dorian whispered. 

Bull trusted him.

Bull trusted him even though he was a Tevinter and a mage, and even knowing exactly what Dorian did in bed. Bull trusted him enough to show a vulnerability that he likely hadn’t shared with anyone before. 

Dorian did start crying then, an overload of emotions finally getting the better of him and he sobbed, covering his face with his hands. It wasn’t as bad as he had anticipated; he wasn’t even sure exactly why he was crying. He was still sore, on edge, and exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with lack of sleep, but he also felt safe and loved with Bull’s arms wrapped around him.

Bull didn’t say anything about the tears but picked up his story about the Chargers again until Dorian stopped only a few minutes later. The reprieve only lasted a minute before Dorian started again, but this time was even less pain driven than the last and he could even mostly listen to what Bull was saying.

“I don’t think we should play like that again any time soon, and when we do, we need to talk about it a little more,” Bull suggested after they were both sure Dorian had finished. “Maybe we should take things easy for a little while?”

Dorian nodded.

Bull’s hands no longer felt even a little constricting and Dorian sank fully back into his arms. Dorian still felt panicky but he was safe here, Bull would take care of him.

“Would you like to sleep?” Bull asked, seeming to sense Dorian’s comfort and tightening his arms around him a little more.

“I’d rather not.” Dorian didn’t wish to risk what nightmares the Fade might drag up for him if he were to enter it now. “Would you read to me?” 

Bull looked a little surprised, though he covered it quickly; Dorian had never asked Bull to read to him though the opposite had happened on occasion. Bull reached for the book Dorian had left on Bull’s bedside table, only having to jostle Dorian a little to make the stretch. Bull made a face at the title, The History of Mortalitasi, before flipping it open to where Dorian had left his bookmark.

“You have to promise not to make fun of my pronunciation,” Bull said after skimming the page. “I don’t speak Nevarran and there’s a lot of words here that are still in the original language.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Dorian had closed his eyes and twisted slightly to rest his head against Bull’s chest, listening to the soothing, repetitive noise of Bull’s slow heartbeat and steady breathing. Bull’s voice soon mixed with the sound and Dorian found himself truly calm for the first time since before he had said katoh. 

As it would happen, Bull’s pronunciation was just fine.


End file.
